


The FP Jones Collection

by TrueHannahLou



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Affairs, F/M, age gap, idk what to tag this with lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:01:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23347366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueHannahLou/pseuds/TrueHannahLou
Summary: This started off as a joke and now here we are. If you think it sounds cheesy, it's supposed to be.
Relationships: FP Jones II/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	1. Don't Tell (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to hell! Let's replace some of Riverdale's terrible writing with awful prose of my own.  
> The reader has an affair with FP Jones.  
> (Reader is 18, by the way lol)  
> Word Count: 1,374  
> Hope you catch the Scream reference, I couldn't help myself.

Nobody needed to know. That was the mantra repeated over and over again in your head. Nobody needed to find out about this necessarily inconspicuous affair. It took a while to truly get over the thought that someone might happen upon the two of you in the midst of a “situation.” But that was difficult when you were sneaking around with the father of one of your best friends. Still, you were cautious.

Your nerves regarding the whole messy affair had subsided now that the Black Hood was gone. Your relationship with FP was as sinful as could be. A significant age difference combined with the betrayal of one of your close friends could really only add up to something that warranted scorn. But as far as you were concerned, the only people you had to worry about hiding things from at this point were your friends.

  
After brief splits, both Varchie and Bughead were back together in full swing. You hoped that meant they would be too wrapped up in each other to notice you and your sordid affair, but you knew you had to be careful, especially with Betty and Jughead. You had been waiting for FP to finish his shifts at Pop’s, but you’d slowly stopped showing up around there, unless of course it was with friends. You didn’t find yourself sneaking over to his place when you knew Jughead and Betty would be preoccupied either, not wanting to take the risk of anyone seeing your car parked there, or letting him be a gentleman and transporting you himself. You felt everyone’s unseen eyes on you wherever you went, so you tried keeping your distance. It was probably just paranoia, knowing that people weren’t focused on the Black Hood anymore or the feeling of impending doom, and you wished you could join in the celebration, but that had provided you with a cover you no longer had.

  
He cornered you in Pop’s. You had just stopped in to grab something to take home as you poured over your studies. There was hardly anybody there, nobody to witness your crimes against innocence and purity. “What the hell is going on with you, (Y/N)?” he asked, backing you into a corner. He would have seemed awfully threatening if you didn’t know him better.

  
“What do you mean?” you asked, electing to play dumb in the hopes that it would all go away. You’d obviously felt pretty bad about essentially ignoring him, but you didn’t want to hurt Jughead, and you knew he didn’t either.

  
“Don’t play dumb with me, kid. If you didn’t want to keep things going between me and you, you could have said something,” FP said in a low voice, looking down at you with his hand pressed against the wall, holding you in place. You sighed softly.

  
“For real, FP?” you asked. “Keep it down, we shouldn’t even be talking,” you grumbled, looking down. “Listen, I like what we had, but it’s not gonna work out,” you said, trying to push past him to leave the diner, but he held you in place.

  
“What’s wrong? You’re acting completely different from the (Y/N) I know,” he said, pressing a little closer. “Is it all the shit going on in town?” he asked, slightly more sympathetically. “Or is it my age? My kid?” You looked down, avoiding his gaze. “I see,” he said softly. “That’s all I needed to know, (Y/N).”

  
“I’m sorry, I just can’t...” you tried to give him an excuse, but there wasn’t one. “I can’t,” you repeated, and he let you go this time when you tried to walk away. Part of you knew it was better like this anyway. Whatever you had going on between the two of you was not going to work out long-term. You already felt guilty about sneaking around behind your friends backs, not telling them what you were doing or where you were going. You especially felt bad for Jughead, knowing there would likely be hell to pay if he ever found out. It wasn’t like you were much older than him.

  
You left the diner, the sound of your purpose-filled footfalls echoing in FP’s ear. He let you go, but this wouldn’t do. Meanwhile, you’d hopped in your car, tossing the bag of food on the passenger seat and heading away from Pop’s as fast as you could. Even that little interaction had shaken your resolve to avoid FP. God knows you didn’t want to avoid him, but how could you keep hiding something that held such weight in your mind?

  
When you pulled into your driveway, your mom wasn’t home, as usual. You honestly wondered why you still lived in Riverdale, especially since your mom was always out of town. Still, it allowed you to get away with a hell of a lot more, and as a high schooler, that was something you weren’t going to complain about.

  
Fumbling with your keys for a moment, you managed to open the door while juggling everything you needed to carry inside. With everything that had happened in town over the past months, you didn’t want to risk two trips, or leaving your door unlocked any longer than you had to. So once you got inside, the click of the lock satisfied your nerves. Your backpack weighed nearly a ton thanks to all of the textbooks you carried with you, which you were hyper-aware of as you trudged up the stairs to your room.

  
Discarding your backpack and flopping on your bed you let out a sigh, staring up at your ceiling fan. You rolled over and glanced at your alarm clock, the red numbers glaring at you. It was already so late. Getting caught up after school driving Betty and Jughead on their latest “quest” could not become a common occurrence. Although you weren’t much older, you did feel a sense of duty to look out for them. After all, they were probably some of the more reckless teens in Riverdale, and somebody had to keep an eye on them. Lord knows their parents weren’t, especially not FP. No, his eyes were on you.

  
As the night went on, you alternated between your bed and your desk, sitting cross-legged on the black and white duvet hunched over a textbook or scribbling answers down on a worksheet illuminated by your desk lamp. The sounds of the world floated in through your window that had been cracked open since earlier that morning, creating a comfortable atmosphere. Combining that with the cool evening breeze, you could almost be tricked into thinking that Riverdale was a normal little town for a moment or two. The greasy but delicious burger and fries from Pop’s put you in a better state of mind as well, as long as you push the confrontation with FP out of your thoughts.

  
If you hadn’t been so captivated by the calculus textbook laid out on your desk, you would have noticed the rustling outside. Or maybe you would have looked to the window to see a ladder being placed against the window sill. But the frustration had built up, and your pencil grating against graph paper was the only sound that filled your mind. Until you heard the climbing. You glanced over to the window quickly, the pencil falling out of your hand. Pushing away from your desk, you hesitated. Someone was there.  
You froze until you heard that voice. “It’s been a while since I’ve snuck through anybody’s bedroom window,” FP said, appearing at the top of the ladder.

  
“Great, well now that you’ve gotten it out of your system, you need to leave,” you retorted, stepping towards the window. It was relieving to see that it was just him, but if someone happened upon the situation as they were walking by, that would certainly spell trouble.

  
But, your resolve was weakened after the interaction you’d had with him in the diner. You helped him in. That was how FP Jones came to be standing in your bedroom, looking at you, clearly needing something only you could provide.

  
So, you asked the only thing you could at that point: “How the hell did we end up here?”


	2. Don't Tell (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2  
> Word Count: 1,389

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this when I was going through a weird time, so the "time is fleeting" "make the most of your life" kind of stuff was heavy on my noggin. Feel free to ignore all that if you'd like, and here's the chapter regardless.

You’d made it through the night without major incident, emboldening you in your pursuits of whatever you’d gotten yourself into. This was high school, after all, the time to live your life and figure things out, not to worry about the future and simply live in the now. With a town like Riverdale, that was hard to do. The dark secrets that hid in the shadows of a once peaceful town seemed to have manifested in your bed, laying an arm over you and holding you close. 

There was more cause for concern than you were actually feeling. Maybe it was the events of the previous night replaying in your mind as you laid there, maybe it was the recognition that this might be the best you’d ever get, maybe it was the idea that time was fleeting and you didn’t know what was going to happen after high school or even next week with all the secrets let loose in Riverdale. Maybe you just wanted to live for once instead of looking to the future or dwelling on the past. 

“(Y/N),” FP mumbled, pulling you out of your thoughts. Instinctively you moved a little closer to him. You were up before your alarm, which was probably good because it gave you an excuse to lay there with FP for a little while longer. But the day would begin and things like these were much harder to hide in broad daylight. 

“Hey, you should probably get out of here, the sun’s almost up,” you said quietly, pressing into the warm body by your side. “If we stay here any longer, people will start asking questions. They’ll wonder where you are, they’ll wonder where I am…” You buried your face in the crook between his shoulder and his neck and he moved to accomodate you. It was clear that your words were hollow, holding no meaning other than to fill the space and reference what you knew should happen, even though it was completely the opposite of what you wanted to occur. 

“And what would anyone do if they found me here? Have me arrested?” he teased, making you frown. You just shook your head a little bit, pressing a few kisses against his exposed skin. If you could stay there forever, you would. Living in your own little bubble with him would be perfect, as long as it meant that you could forget about everything happening in the crazy town around you, and the implications of what you were actually doing.

Wandering through the halls of Riverdale High you felt everyone’s eyes on you. It was similar to the way things had gone at the beginning of your little affair, or how anybody would have felt if they were sneaking around and trying to hide something. You weren’t ashamed or embarrassed, last night was a testament to that, but the thought of prying eyes discovering your private business definitely got to you. It was simply important that nobody should find out what was going on between you and one of your best friend’s father. 

“Hey, (Y/N),” you heard a call from behind you. Betty. “I didn’t hear anything from you last night, what were you up to?” she asked, catching up to you as you walked to class. Shit. You’d forgotten to text Betty. 

“Sorry, I got caught up with calc homework,” you said, the little white lie slipping easily off your lips. It wasn’t entirely false, you were quite focused on calculus before you were interrupted by... other things. But Betty didn’t need to know about any of that. 

“Well what are you doing later on tonight?” Betty asked as the two of you stopped outside your class. “We were all going to stop at Pop’s later on tonight if you wanted to come with us,” she offered, readjusting the textbooks in her arms. 

You hesitated for a moment, knowing what that meant, but you nodded. “Sure,” you said. “What time?” Nobody needed to know a thing, and they wouldn’t, so long as you continued on with your life like nothing was happening.

“I’ll text you,” Betty smiled. They needed something normal and constant in their lives with everything that was happening around them. You didn’t want anybody in your little group to have to repeat a year like you. Technically, you should have been a senior, but your father’s untimely death left you spiraling your junior year. Getting back on track was difficult, but “adopting” a group of sophomores had made things a little bit more manageable. Regardless, everybody needed something normal in their lives, especially in Riverdale. 

Later that evening, you pulled up to Pop’s, smiling to yourself when you saw the gang was already there. You’d gotten caught up in some of your homework again, fulfilling the promise you’d made to yourself that you’d do this year right. 

Stepping through the door you made a beeline to the table to avoid FP who had been talking to Jughead about something out of your line of sight. You took a seat quickly, Betty moving to accommodate for your presence. So it was the five of you, sandwiched into your normal booth, each person carrying their own little secret to hide with no intention of revealing it to the others at the table. And yet conversations went on like nothing was wrong. 

You couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t gain control of your eyes long enough to keep them from wandering off in FP’s direction. It happened every once in a while as the five of you talked and laughed and lived life as normal teenagers despite your utterly abnormal lives. 

And just as soon as the night had begun, it was over. In reality, three hours had passed with the five of you sitting and talking and sipping on milkshakes, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted to stay and keep the feeling going, but everybody had places to be, and most people were hesitant to be out past dark now anyways. 

“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” you said, excusing yourself as the conversation dwindled. You scooted your way out of the booth and headed for the door, pausing for a moment at the sight of FP beckoning inconspicuously for you to come speak with him. You sighed for a moment, making sure the rest of the group wasn’t looking before you headed off to a hidden corner of the diner with him. “What?” you asked softly. “I shouldn’t be seen talking to you,” you told him. “Especially not with your _son_ and our _friends_ sitting a few feet away,” you said. 

“Come by my place tonight,” FP said insistently, pressing closer to you. “Please? I happen to know we’ll have the trailer to ourselves,” he added, looking down at you. You felt yourself blushing more and more. 

“Alright, alright, fine,” you said quickly. You didn’t want to say no to FP, obviously, but you did want to end the conversation that could so easily be seen by prying eyes if they knew where to look. Sure, it wasn’t too strange to be talking to him, but your friends were only a few booths away, all probably looking to head home soon too. What would happen if they caught a glimpse? 

“Perfect, you know I don’t like to beg,” he grinned, leaning down and catching your lips in a kiss. He was hungry, you could tell. Not wanting to seem uninterested, you made a conscious effort to push him away as gently as possible. This was so _not_ the place for a makeout sesh. 

“I’ll be waiting for you,” you said, looking around for a moment to make sure nobody had seen. Luckily for you, the diner wasn’t as packed so late at night, even on a Friday. The numbers had dwindled the longer you and your friends stayed talking and sipping on your milkshakes, which had been refilled many times over. “And don’t pull anything like that again,” you said smirking, pointing a finger at him as you made your way to the door. Veronica caught up with you and you fed her a quick lie about stopping in the bathroom to explain why you weren’t already out the door. It seemed like there was more in store for that night after all.


	3. Don't Tell (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3  
> Word Count: 2,216

You made your way to the trailer with ease. The only thing to concern you now was the prying eyes of your friends, which you didn’t think would be an issue at that point in the night. Archie and Veronica certainly had no business there, and Betty and Jughead were apparently off doing their own thing together. FP had promised you that there would be no interruptions, and you were eager to have a bit of alone time together. 

Letting yourself in as he’d instructed, you made yourself comfortable, spread out across the couch. As you laid there, looking up at the ceiling, you pondered this decision you were making. You knew that what was going on between you two was objectively wrong, but it felt so right. And maybe that was cheesy and cliche, but it was also true. There was more to it than just the physical relationship, more intimacy than you’d expected. And quite frankly, that was what kept you coming back for more. 

Classifying your relationship was difficult. You didn’t consider yourself and FP to be girlfriend and boyfriend for a number of reasons. For one, you didn’t want to call your best friend’s father your boyfriend. And anyways, FP seemed too mature for that kind of label. Quite frankly, he seemed too mature for a lot of things, but that was beside the point. You weren’t a huge fan of labels in the first place, especially not when it came to him. But it felt like more than friends with benefits, even though you’d never talked through exactly  _ what  _ you were. 

You made a note to do that, waiting in the silence for him to come home. How would you greet him when he walked in the door? Would he care? Why had you started overthinking things all of a sudden? Frowning to yourself, you sat up, running a hand through your (H/L) (H/C) hair. He should have been arriving any minute. Would he freeze up if you decided to start talking about your feelings, about what was going on between the two of you? No. You would do whatever felt right, that was the only way to go about things. 

Ignoring any pretense of what was right or wrong, you met him as he walked in the door. You heard him pulling up, coming to the door and trying the knob to see if it was locked. At one point, Riverdale had been a town where people could leave their doors unlocked, but as soon as the dark shadow of murder had fallen on the town that all went away. So you got up when you heard FP coming, greeting him by pulling him into a quick kiss. 

“Hey,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around your waist and looking down at you warmly. You moved in close, your arms wrapped around him underneath his Serpent jacket. You’d missed that kind of comfort and warmth, but you honestly couldn’t remember when you had it in the first place. “This is nice,” he chuckled softly, kissing the top of your head. 

“Maybe I should be here to greet you every night when you come home from work,” you mused, obviously not too serious about the suggestion. But his eyes seemed to light up at that. It almost hurt, the thought that you couldn’t give him what he wanted in that way. 

“That would be nice,” he said. “We’d have to tell Jughead though,” he added, the mention of which made you shake your head. The implications of that were too much to unpack in that moment, and you knew he felt the same way. He looked at you knowingly. You’d both silently agreed that this was something you wouldn’t share unless you got  _ very  _ serious. And even then, that wasn’t something you thought you could allow yourself to do. 

“I think we’ve agreed to keep this our little secret,” you said, smiling to ease the tension that phrase had left in the air. 

“You’re a good little secret to keep,” FP smirked, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands gripped your thighs firmly as he pressed you against the door, locking it with one hand before turning his attention to you. 

You decided to sneak out in the early hours of the morning, especially after seeing that Jughead had come home in the middle of the night and passed out on the couch. Thankfully you were smart enough to park your car a few roads down in case anything like that did happen. 

It was early enough that the sun was only just coming up. You had assumed that meant you didn’t need to worry about your appearance too much. You stopped in the bathroom to make sure you didn’t look _ too  _ disheveled, straightening your hair as best you could and pausing to admire the fresh marks on your neck.

It always surprised you how quickly they showed up, how intense and vibrant the colors were. You certainly weren’t complaining. Hickeys were fun to give and even more fun to receive. Needless to say, everybody would be able to tell that you belonged to someone, but thankfully they’d have no idea who. 

Treading carefully through the trailer, you made your way to the door. If Jughead was anything like his father, he would sleep like a rock and not notice a damn thing as you left. Still, you opened and closed the door quietly, just in case anybody in the house might have heard. And then, you were on your way. What you didn’t expect to see was Betty pulling up in the Cooper family station wagon just in time to witness your less than graceful exit from the trailer. 

Hesitating for a moment outside the front door, you panicked. Betty had definitely seen you, and the state you were in. You were wearing the exact same clothes as the previous night, but now with a few new “accessories” since you’d last seen each other. 

Betty frowned, rolling down her window. “(Y/N)?” she called out in disbelief. It was clear she didn’t know what else to say, and neither did you. You wanted to disappear, to leave like nothing ever happened, but all of her unspoken questions seemed to stick in the air, thick with the tension between the two of you now. 

Oh you were sure she was imagining the worst. Or at least, what she assumed to be the worst. You and Jughead, sneaking around behind her back. Wondering how her boyfriend could lie to her like that, to mess around with someone who she considered to be a friend. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. The truth would have to come out either way, wouldn’t it? Either tell Betty now about the little affair or leave her assuming you were going behind her back with her boyfriend. And if you left it up to the latter, she’d be forced to confront him, to ask why the hell you were walking out of his trailer at an ungodly hour of the morning (6:00 am to be precise) and why you were covered in hickeys. And then he’d make the realization himself. 

“This isn’t what it looks like,” you said simply, heading over to the passenger side of the vehicle and letting yourself in. Betty just stared at you. “I know what you’re thinking, and this isn’t what it looks like, trust me,” you said. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” was the only thing she could muster. 

“Jughead is passed out on the sofa, he won’t be up for a while. Why don’t we go for a little drive. This is going to take a bit of explaining,” you said, buckling yourself in before she could say anything. Betty just nodded a little, turning the key in the ignition and heading off. The moments of silence that followed felt like they lasted eternities, and they made your skin crawl. 

“You’d better start talking,” Betty said. She’d maintained her composure far better than you thought she would in that situation, but she’d been through a whole lot of shit lately, and you didn’t imagine much would faze her at this point. Still, you did detect a bit of hurt. She may have believed there was more to the story, but it would be hard not to assume that Jughead was cheating on her after the sight she’d just witnessed. 

You sighed softly. Time for a confession. “You can’t tell Jughead about any of this,” you began. “It’s a very… delicate matter,” you added, just imagining what would happen if the situation wasn’t handled carefully. The whole affair was like a glass, rolling slowly but surely to the edge of a countertop, ready to plummet down to the floor below and shatter. Maybe the glass had stopped rolling over the past few days, but telling Betty was the push to get it moving again. And if she even considered telling Jughead, that glass would be well on its way to breaking. 

“I’m listening,” Betty said. It was a secret to be kept from Jughead, which meant that it didn’t have anything to do with him or his fidelity. You could see the relief in her eyes, but also the understanding. There was a meaning behind every mark on your neck, and an importance behind knowing the person who gave them to you. So if it wasn’t Jughead, there was only one other person who lived in that trailer who could have been the giver. 

The gears must have been turning in Betty’s mind, she must have put things together, but you spoke up anyway. “FP and I have been… I don’t know what you’d even call it. I guess we’re friends with benefits?” But that didn’t sound quite right. “It kind of just happened, I don’t even know how. One minute things were normal and the next everything was all just  _ happening _ . And what’s worse is we started while the Black Hood was going around, and I know it’s wrong, obviously I know it’s wrong but sometimes with things like that you just…” you trailed off, stopping the spigot and the words flowing from your mouth. 

Betty sat in silence for a while, taking it all in. “You need to tell Jughead,” she said quietly. It was hard to get a read on her emotions, she wasn’t giving away a thing. There was judgement, obviously, and concern for her boyfriend but you would argue you had just as much concern for Jughead, it just went in the complete opposite direction. 

“No,” you said firmly. “That’s not my decision to make. That’s FP’s. If it were up to either of us, nobody would know about it. That’s the way we tried to keep things. Until today. You need to stay quiet about this, if Jughead finds out the wrong way, it could really hurt him,” you said, feeling guilty even before the words left your mouth. 

“You’ve been sleeping with his father! It shouldn’t have even happened in the first place,” Betty said pointedly, looking over at you as she parked the car. You’d reached a pretty secluded spot in the woods, not far out enough to be dangerous, but enough to stay away from prying eyes. You sighed. 

“I know it shouldn’t have happened, Betty,” you said. “I feel bad about it whenever I think about him finding out,” you admitted. 

“Then why do you keep doing it? How long has this been going on for?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“A couple months? I don’t know. I tried to put a stop to things, I’ve been avoiding FP, avoiding Pop’s, avoiding Jughead. It just feels like I’m walking around with it tattooed on my forehead or something, everyone can see. It’s not his fault, but I just can’t stop,” you said, still rambling in your nervousness. Your heart rate had skyrocketed as you sat there, confessing to Betty. A part of you felt good getting everything off your chest, but this was a small town. Even though you trusted Betty, the thought that someone knew your secret, regardless of who they were, was alarming. 

“Wow, I never would have guessed,” she sighed, shaking her head and sitting back. If the whole situation was a lot for her to process, and you could see the gears turning in her mind, you could only imagine what Jughead would face at such a revelation. 

“Which is why we need to keep this as underground as possible,” you told her. “What FP tells Jughead is up to him, but nobody needs to know,” you said. It sounded wrong and vindictive and crooked, but you had to keep telling yourself it was the right thing to do. Even if your actual relationship with FP was wrong, you couldn’t say anything about it to Jughead. That would hurt him for no reason. 

Betty just shook her head. “Alright,” she agreed begrudgingly. “But you really should tell Jughead. Or, you know, put a stop to whatever the hell you want to call that,” she said, putting the car back in gear and heading in the direction of the trailer park once more. 


	4. Don't Tell (Part 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 4  
> Word Count: 1,297  
> A shorter chapter with a little bit of fluff :)

You made an excuse to see FP again. A trip to the diner for some brain fuel. That was what you told yourself, but you did have other things in mind. Not what you were sure he hoped, but it was important nonetheless. He needed to know that Betty knew.

Like most of your meetings, you came to him later in the evening, reducing the likelihood that other people would see. When you walked into Pop’s, there was hardly anybody there, which made it easier for you to go up to FP and speak to him without hesitation. You would be lying to yourself if you said you hated the way he’d kissed you there the other day, when all your friends were in a booth not too far away. There was definitely a bit of a thrill that came from doing something you knew you shouldn’t. Or rather, someone you shouldn’t. 

“We need to talk,” you said, approaching him and looking serious. 

“That doesn’t sound good,” he said with a small chuckle. Of course there were a number of things that phrase could mean, and with your circumstances, none of them were very good. You’d proven your willpower, or lack thereof, in your attempts to stay away from him, so it likely wouldn’t have anything to do with a breakup. And the theories only got worse from there. 

“Come over to my place when you’re done here?” you asked. It was more of a question than a suggestion, wondering if he would actually agree. You picked up the food you’d ordered and paused for a moment, cradling the bag in your arms. “You should probably use the back door,” you added. 

FP simply nodded. “I’ll be done in about an hour. I’ll be there,” he promised. Clearly it was important if you weren’t able to come out and say it plainly. Which was certainly a cause for concern, but you both had time to ponder what you were going to say over that next hour. 

You headed home, thinking more about the solution than the problem. You felt it was only fair to give FP a warning in advance, knowing it would give both of you more time to prepare what to say, and even say it on your own terms. 

Later on in the evening, you let FP in your back door, not quite willing to leave it unlocked and not quite willing to let him in the front door. Still, you were relieved to see him, glad he’d shown up. You wrapped your arms around his neck, looking up at him. “Thanks for coming,” you said, kissing him softly. 

“You know I can’t stay away,” he told you, grinning. “What did you want to talk about?” he asked after a moment, looking a little worried. You sighed softly, staring up at him and not speaking for just a little while. 

“I had to tell someone about us,” you told him after a minute. “I had to tell Betty,” you said, knowing this would change things. He frowned, pulling away. You knew that would be his reaction.

“Why?” he asked, looking concerned. “What happened, this was supposed to be…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “You made sure she wouldn’t say anything, right?” he asked. 

“Of course. She’s been sworn to secrecy, obviously. She saw me coming out of the trailer one morning and she started asking questions. She assumed I was with Jughead, and I couldn’t do that to her,” you explained. “She shouldn’t know in the first place. I thought I should tell you in case she says anything though, so we can say something ourselves or do damage control.” 

FP ran a hand through his hair, sitting down on the couch before looking up at you again. “Alright, well… maybe that means we should put a stop to all this. That way there’s nothing we need to confess to,” he said. You just stared at him for a moment. 

“Is… is that what you want?” you asked hesitantly, not wanting to hear him say yes. You weren't sure if you could handle that. You’d grown too close and far too attached to let things go, even if you knew it would have to happen at some point or another. This was never a permanent arrangement, and it never  _ could _ be a permanent arrangement. 

“No, of course it’s not what I want,” he told you gently, patting the spot next to him for you to sit down. You shook your head, taking his hand and pulling him up to your bedroom. Once inside, you took off some of your more restrictive, uncomfortable layers and crawled into bed, motioning for him to do the same. He just shook his head, a hint of a smile gracing his lips as he got in and pulled you closer. 

“What do you want then?” you asked, continuing the conversation. “If you don’t want to stop this, then what do you want?” you pressed, curling up against him. At least he wasn’t going to tell you no. At least he wasn’t going to say “I’m leaving.” At least you still had this time with him to figure things out and he wasn’t pushing you away completely. 

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t want to have to hide you, but I know I should, for both our sakes. I don’t want to hurt Jug, but I don’t want to hurt you,” he mumbled, playing with your hair absentmindedly. 

“I think maybe... maybe it would be best for you to plan what you’d say to him, if you  _ were _ going to tell him about us. It doesn’t take a genius to know that this kind of news would shake him,” you said. You hadn’t talked about the possibility of telling Jughead before, mostly because neither of you assumed the relationship would spiral into what it had. 

“Trust me, I think about it every time you leave,” FP said, guilt evident in his voice. You sighed. It wasn’t as though you were lying to him, but anybody would want to know about their father having an affair with a younger woman, or one of their friends, or both. Keeping it from Jughead might hurt him, but telling him was going to be just as tough. 

“It will be best if he hears it from us. Or, you at least,” you kissed his cheek. “But I don’t think I have to tell you that,” you said. FP shook his head. It was clear you were on the same page, but talking about emotions wasn’t something you did. Ever. 

A hush fell over the room, leaving you to wonder where you stood with FP. “I really...” he began, clearly searching for the words. “I don’t want to give you up. Whatever this is... I like this,” he said, like he could read your thoughts. You didn’t expect an ‘I love you’ or anything of the sort, but something to assure you that this wasn’t just a game gave you a great sense of relief. 

Of course, the physical aspect of your relationship wasn’t what some might expect. FP was gentle with you, affectionate and attentive. You could tell he cared in the way his fingers brushed against your skin, the tenderness he showed when he touched you. It wasn’t quite what you’d expected from him, even as an older, more experienced man. Still, having those words to hold onto was reassuring. 

“I like this too. I like you,” you said. “Although, that’s probably pretty obvious,” you added, pulling him into a gentle kiss which he reciprocated, tangling his fingers up in your hair as he pulled you in closer. Your bodies pressed together was the last thing you focused on that night.


End file.
